


Celebrity

by MarianaReads



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarianaReads/pseuds/MarianaReads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With no sense of direction or purpose following the end of the Second War, Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts for his eight and final year of school... but to his surprise, finding his place isn't as easy he expected. *Written in drabbles. *HarryXLuna *Not fully canon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome Home

                Harry stepped off of the Hogwarts Express and looked towards the castle, looming in the distance. Hermione and Ginny followed closely, each pausing to collect their thoughts and maintain their composure. Ginny slipped her hand into the crook of Harry’s elbow and he felt her fingers tighten around his bicep. Harry smirked at her, praying that his trepidation and doubts did not show on his face. For her part, Ginny winked at him. Hermione closed the gap and stepped up next to him.

          “Remind me – why am I here?” Harry asked. He heard a low chuckle from Hermione’s direction.

          “You’ll have to double check with Molly Weasley but I do believe it had something to do with not wasting your potential, making something of yourself, and you’ll be grateful for it in the future?” Hermione pondered, her own doubts reflected in her words.

          Ginny’s voice sounded from his other side. “Because saving the Wizarding world isn’t enough of an accomplishment for my Mum.”

          “How’d Ron get out of this?” Harry asked to no one in particular.

          Hermione frowned and ducked her head. Ginny said sadly, “Got himself a career with Wizarding Wheezes.”  

          “Right,” Harry said. The three stood on the platform silently, breaking the steady stream of students headed towards the school. Harry felt as though he were standing on a precipice, mere centimeters from falling off the edge and into the abyss. Nothing about being at Hogwarts on this September 1st felt right. Ron wasn’t here. There would be no Dumbledore to lead him, no Snape to antagonize him, and no promise of Voldemort to haunt his every waking moment.

          Harry felt as though he were adrift on a lone life raft in the middle of an endless ocean with no promise of land in sight. Harry could not shake the feeling of apprehension from his shoulders but forced himself to attribute it to living in constant dread for the past seven years. Hermione was the first to break their silent vigil and drew the other two out of their own heads.

          “We’re doing no one any favors by standing here, staring. Harry, you’ve got a meeting with McGonagall and I don’t think she’ll give you a pass if you’re late,” she said.

          Harry sighed. “I suppose being The Chosen One doesn’t work as an excuse anymore.”

          “Did it ever work as an excuse?” Ginny mused.

          Harry shook his head. “No… I guess it didn’t.” 


	2. Inconvenient

          “I hope that you can appreciate exactly what we are doing here for you, Potter. Obviously there has never been a precedent before that would call for the necessity of Hogwarts students returning in what would be chronologically their eighth year of school. If we were to rule ourselves by technicalities, I would be forced to say that you are in your seventh year and therefore would be enrolled in all of the appropriate classes and on the path towards your N.E.W.T.s,” McGonagall said.

          Until that point, Harry had staring at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore that hung behind Professor McGonagall’s desk. Dumbledore was currently knitting a pair of violently pink socks and though he appeared to be blissfully unaware of what was taking place within the Headmistress’s office, he would often look up and catch Harry’s eye, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. Harry’s gut twisted uncomfortably and he fought to push against all of his unresolved feelings towards the man away from his mind.

          The mention of the N.E.W.T.s and course work tore his attention away from the painting and Harry stared at McGonagall, horrified. “Professor, excuse me, but I don’t think that I could handle taking another year of Divination or History of Magic. Not after everything,” Harry said.

          “I suspected as much which is why I’ve arranged what I like to think of as an independent course of study for you, Potter. You once expressed an interest in becoming an Auror. Are those still your wishes?” McGonagall fixed Harry with a penetrating stare and he got the feeling that the Headmistress was not simply gauging his reaction to her question. Harry shifted uncomfortably under her study, suddenly feeling painfully vulnerable.

          “Yes, ma’am,” Harry stammered.

          “Very good. You will receive private lessons once a week each in the fields of Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Potions from a variety and combination of Professors and professionals. These lessons will be rigorous and will prepare you for the N.E.W.T.s at the end of the school year. In addition, Kingsley Shacklebolt has been gracious enough to arrange specialized Auror training for two hours each week. The purposes of these lessons are to prepare you so that you will be prepared to enter the field immediately following your graduation from Hogwarts. You will find the details of your schedule here. Please take a moment to look it over,” McGonagall said, handing Harry a folded class schedule.

          Harry unfolded his schedule and glanced at it, briefly. “Looks good, Professor,” he said.

          “As you can see, your private lessons are only one hour a piece per week.  I do not want you to fall on the false hope that because you will spend so little time within the classroom, you will be free to do as you please. You will have as little free time as your classmates who are being educated in traditional classes. Naturally, your spot as Seeker is still available if you wish to play Quidditch-”

          “I don’t,” Harry responded quickly, to which McGonagall merely cocked an eyebrow. She continued her speech as though he had never spoken.

          “I will also require that you meet with me once a week – every Friday at two o’clock. We will discuss how your classes are going and whether you are performing by the standard that I expect. I am also requiring that you meet with a Healer following our meetings.”

          Harry blinked at McGonagall, confused. “A Healer? I don’t understand,” Harry began.

          “You’ve been through a tremendous amount of darkness and at no point have you been able to be a normal teenager. The weight of our world has been resting on your shoulders for far too long,” McGonagall said, her voice softening. “I want to ensure that you have a health professional to speak to and someone to help you work through whatever you may face as you attempt to acclimate yourself to the world.”

          Harry felt his cheeks burn red. “I don’t need to see a shrink, Professor,” he said through gritted teeth. McGonagall narrowed her eyes and when she spoke, there was an edge to her words.

          “That may be so but I am requiring it nonetheless. You are dismissed, Potter.”

          Harry pushed himself up from his chair angrily, and turned to leave. Just as he reached the stone stairs, he heard McGonagall’s voice calling out to him.

          “I have high expectations for you, Potter. Don’t expect that the faculty will allow you to slide by now that the War is over. We all know that you have great potential and we will not allow you to waste it while you are under our care. Now, if you happen to see Miss Granger, please send her to my office. I would like to speak with her.”


	3. Party

          Harry stopped his march and turned, facing the wall and waiting. Slowly the door began to materialize before him and Harry drummed his fingers against his thigh, impatient to find out why his D.A. coin had begun to burn in his pocket earlier in the day. The door completed itself and Harry quickly pulled it open, stepping over the threshold and into the Room of Requirement. Though the room had the exact set up as when it acted as a base for the D.A. during the Death Eater’s take over, Harry was greeted by the sounds of laughter and music – a _party_. But beneath it all, Harry detected the faint smell of smoke and ash. He shuddered.

          The portrait of Ariana Dumbledore swung open and Ginny stepped down from the tunnel, carrying a case of what looked like bottles of ale. Dean Thomas followed her closely, his own hands clutching at jugs of amber liquid that sloshed around in their bottles. Harry narrowed his eyes at her and wondered why it was Dean who she asked for help and not any of the other dozen males who were currently at the party. At the sight of the alcohol, the general assembly cheered and Harry heard the main entrance swing open behind him. Luna Lovegood stepped into the room and stopped, standing next to him.

          “Luna,” he said, by way of greeting and turned to look at her. Luna looked different – older and with a touch of darkness that lingered just under her surface, though Harry supposed they all looked that way after the past year. She smiled at him, lightly, as if proving that her innate aloofness and airy nature still prevailed despite it all.

          “Harry,” she responded in kind. Harry squinted at her.

          “Did you… Are you wearing _makeup_?” Harry asked incredulously. Luna blushed and laughed softly.

          “First time for everything,” she said and turned to face him, staring at him intently. “Do I look ridiculous?”

          Harry cast a sidelong glance at her, afraid to look at her full on because if she did look hilarious, he was nervous that he wouldn’t have the energy to lie to her about it. But he was caught off guard – Luna looked… pretty? That was a thought he never expected to have but it was true. Her make up accentuated her face only enough to bring out her best features – her eyes sparkled and she had a light blush that never seemed to completely fade. Her hair was marginally shorter and rather than styled in its normal frizzy mess of curls, Luna’s hair fell in a shiny cascade of loose curls over her shoulders. And her clothing-

          “Harry. Luna. Glad you got my message,” Ginny said, skipping up to greet the both of them. Ginny pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek and slipped her hand into his, her fingers weaving between his. Luna pulled her gaze away from Harry and smiled at Ginny.

          “Aberforth was lovely enough to supply us with whiskey.” Harry glanced down at his girlfriend curiously and wondered how she had convinced the crotchety old man to give her alcohol – enough to intoxicate a small army – free of charge.

          “Aberforth?” Luna asked with surprise. “He gave you alcohol?”

          Ginny giggled and smiled coyly at the both of them, shrugging her shoulders. She began to pull Harry towards the party’s makeshift bar and beckoned Luna to follow.

          “You have to know how to talk to people, Luna. That’s all there is to it.” Ginny winked and turned to Dean who was playing bartender. “Three shots of fire whiskey, please.” Dean smiled at Ginny warmly but had the grace to look embarassed when he saw Harry glowering behind her. Dean quickly poured the shots and pushed them towards the group. Ginny picked hers up and shot it back immediately. Luna frowned at the glass and placed it back on the bar top. For his part, Harry stared at Ginny.

          “You mean that you flirted with him to get it?” he asked through clenched teeth. Again, Ginny shrugged and picked up Luna’s abandoned shot.

          “Oh, what’s the harm?” she asked and threw back the alcohol. “We’ve been through hell and now it’s time to have some fun.” 


	4. Evenness

          Luna sank into an armchair next to the one that Hermione occupied and glanced over at the other girl. Hermione’s brow was furrowed in concentration and opened on her lap was a large and ancient tome and though she had every appearance of studying rigorously, Luna noticed that her eyes did not move. Hermione stared at one spot in the center of the page. Her hands were clenched around either side of the book and her knuckles were turning white.

          “Hello, Hermione. Studying hard?” Luna said, breaking her silence. In response, Hermione jumped and looked up at Luna, dazed, as though she had just realized where she was. Hermione smiled at Luna but the smile did not reach her eyes.

          “Luna. How are you? Enjoying the party?” Hermione spit out the word party as though it were dirty. Hermione closed the tome and wedged it between the side of her body and the chair she was sitting on. She ran her hands over top of her school skirt and Luna realized that she was still wearing her uniform… everyone was else was in their casual clothing, Luna included. 

          Luna shrugged. “I was excited to see that the D.A. was meeting but this is not what I expected.” Hermione nodded in agreement.

          “I’m trying to figure out how long I have to stay before I can leave without seeming rude,” Hermione confessed. “Honestly. Drinking? We all ought to be studying. We haven’t been in a proper school in well over a year. We should be preparing ourselves.”

          Luna smiled and glanced around the room, watching the members of the D.A. Dean Thomas was standing behind the bar, talking with Seamus, but Luna noticed that his eyes never left Ginny Weasley. Ginny was standing at the other end of the Room, talking animatedly in the center of a circle, soaking up the attention. Everyone was watching her, laughing. Just as the group burst out into tipsy laughter, Harry excused himself, detaching himself from Ginny’s hand and made his way to the door. Luna frowned and turned to Hermione.

          “Is Harry okay?” she asked and Hermione looked at her, confused.

          “I think so. Why do you ask?”

          Luna shrugged and shook her head. “No reason.” Luna stood and stretched her arms high over her head. “I may be rude but I’m leaving… I want to brush up on charms.” Luna smiled down at Hermione. “Have a good night.” Hermione merely nodded to Luna, and Luna turned, following Harry out the door. 


	5. Dangerous

          Ginny felt happily numb and twirled about the room, moving her body in conjunction with the music that was beating through the air and laughing happily. She had no idea how late it was and for the first time in months, she felt light. At some point earlier in the night Harry had left but Ginny felt thankful for his decision to do so. All summer long he moved through life with dreariness and a darkness that Ginny could not deal with. Their lives had been shrouded in the evil of their world and now that it was over, she was ready to be happy and carefree… but boyfriend was constantly moping around and treated her attempts at fun as though she were a silly little girl.

          Ginny pushed all thoughts of him out of her mind and continued to dance until she crashed into someone. Strong hands came around her arms, steadying her, and Ginny giggled. Dean Thomas stood before her, looking down at her with a bemused smile and slowly let go of her, stepping back.

          “Alright there, Gin?” he asked and Ginny giggled again.

          “Oh, I am perfect,” she slurred and leaned towards him. “Are you having fun?” she asked and became aware of Dean leading her towards a pair of armchairs in the center. Dean sat down in one but instead of occupying her own seat, Ginny sank down onto his lap. She felt Dean’s body stiffen and she laughed happily.

          “Oh, relax, Dean,” she teased.

          “Easy for you to say,” he muttered and Ginny felt him slide his arm around her waist. “Potter would have my head if he saw us.” Ginny felt goosebumps breakout along the length of her legs at the feeling of Dean’s touch and she breathed in deeply.

          “We’re not doing anything wrong,” she said softly and rested her head against his shoulder. She felt a low chuckle rumble in Dean’s chest. “We’re friends, Dean. Friends are allowed to be affectionate with each other.”

          “Friends. Yeah, okay. Friends it is,” Dean said. 


	6. Foolish

          Luna cursed herself for being such a complete moron and chasing after Harry. If he had desired her company, he would have requested it but Harry had not made an effort to say goodbye to his own girlfriend… let alone to Luna. Luna could feel her cheeks heating in embarrassment and, just as she was about to turn and head back towards Ravenclaw Tower, she heard, “Luna?”

          Luna jumped and spun towards the voice. Harry stepped out of his hiding place – a shadowed alcove that led into a long forgotten and abandoned classroom. She peered over his shoulder and saw rows and rows of desks pushed against the far wall, their rutted and abused surfaces illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows. She shivered – what time was it?

          Harry looked away from Luna’s face and over her shoulder, before returning his gaze to her. “What’re you doing? Did you get lost?” he asked. Luna shook her head and prayed that her face did not betray what a fool she was.

          “No… I was looking for you actually,” she answered and Harry’s brows pulled together. “You looked… distraught when you left and I thought you could use some company.” Luna waited for a reply but was greeted with silence. “I can see now that was a silly thought. Well then. Good night, Harry.” Luna turned and begin to walk away as quickly as her legs would take her. She could feel her cheeks burning. Perhaps it was all for the best, she thought. It was high time she got control of her ridiculous crush and moved on.  


	7. Silence

          Hermione sat at her desk, quill in hand and staring at the empty parchment slip in front of her. She had gotten as far as, “Dear, Ron,” before she had absolutely no idea what to say and she could feel herself becoming more agitated as the minutes ticked by. The voices in the common room below the girls’ dormitory were becoming increasingly louder, as though all of the party in the Room of Requirement had been transferred to Gryffindor. Hermione tapped the tip of her quill against her desk nervously, splattering ink droplets everywhere.

          Ron had become increasingly distant and angry following Hermione (and then Harry’s) announcements that they intended on returning to Hogwarts to finish out what should have been their seventh year. Hermione was just as surprised as Ron to hear that Harry was planning on returning but, after knowing that he and Ginny were together, it made more sense to her. Harry had no idea what he was supposed to do now that Voldemort was finally defeated and the promise of Hogwarts would restore some normalcy to his life.

          And the fact that Hermione was determined to return? That was an obvious choice and yet Ron regarded her with coldness. The night before she left for school, she and Ron had a screaming match and the horribleness of it all was eclipsed by Hermione’s relief at the silence _finally_ being broken. Ron accused her of abandoning him, darkly hinting at her going off to find someone more suited for her, and ended their fight by screaming that she had never loved him at all and suggesting that they call the whole thing off.

          Beneath her anger and devastation over Ron’s reaction, she knew that his insecurities were the foundation of his ugliness and despite how horrible he was to her, she was desperate to reach out to him and to assure him that everything would be okay. Hermione did not know why she expected to find a letter from him when she arrived at Hogwarts – Ron was known for his stubbornness – and was heartbroken to be greeted by his silence.

          Hermione sighed and grabbed at the parchment, crunching it in her hand and tossing into the steady fire that crackled against the far wall of the room. As much as Hermione ached for Ron, she knew that nothing she could say would convince him that he was acting ridiculous. She stood and crossed the room, falling face down onto her bed. Hermione imagined that it would nearly kill her but she would give Ron the distance that he needed to come to terms with whatever darkness he was dealing with. 


End file.
